


Remember the Howl of Our First Verse

by allourheroes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Multiple Endings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles thought he might be able to fix things now.</p>
<p>(Three endings, character death warning only applies to one.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "when asking why the kisses are sorrowful, remember the howl of our first verse" -Id Engager, Of Montreal
> 
> I started this and the whole time tried to figure out which ending I wanted. But I am bad at making decisions, so there are two. Posting the beginning as chapter one, angsty ending as chapter two, and (soon to come) non-death ending.

It’s wet and salty and he can barely press his lips to Derek’s because he’s sobbing so hard, his lips curling back ungraciously, but he can’t bring himself to give a fuck. He clutches tightly to Derek’s shoulders, to his jacket. This can’t be happening, not now.

But it is.

We need to go back.

~

Stiles is kissing Derek.

Scratch that.

 _Stiles_. Is _making out_. With _Derek_. Derek Hale. Of the “How can you all be so hot?” Hales.

He hadn’t known he wanted it so badly until it that moment. Now, he doesn’t ever want it to stop. He’s fairly sure those embarrassing mewling noises are coming from him, but Derek’s tongue is in his mouth and his hands--after much flailing--have settled themselves against the werewolf’s muscled chest and he can’t stop himself from making more noises.

Derek doesn’t seem to mind, what with the way there seems to be a low growl emanating from him--but not the threatening kind Stiles is used to.

When Stiles finally breaks away for air, he is quiet only a few seconds before his face cracks into a wide grin and he laughs, feeling triumphant, “Ha! You like me! I knew it!” It doesn’t matter that he didn’t even know what his feelings were doing on the Derek front until ten minutes ago because whatever they are, Derek feels them, too.

He could swear there was a hint of amusement--even possibly _embarrassment_ \--on Derek’s face at his outburst before the wolf tells him to shut up as he begins to babble.

This is the point in Stiles’s more and more screwed up life that he decides things are turning around for him.

He was able to “believe” in having enough ash for it to be true and hot werewolves are making out with him. Yeah, maybe he has a little bit of control here.

If only he could fix what he’d done to his dad.

~

There’s no opportunity for that. For any of it, really.

It’s barely two days later when he gets a text telling him to come to the school that he finds himself being dragged into the woods by an unfamiliar werewolf.

He’s not even in wolf form, but Stiles is certain that this guy ain’t human. The flicker of _something_ in his eyes a minute later when he _tosses_ him onto the leafy ground only confirms his suspicions. He’s young, not _that_ young, maybe a little older than Derek and looking a _lot_ like a burnout.

“What could you _possibly_ want from me?” he whines, hoping the annoyance in his voice disguises his fear. He knows it’s a worthless effort when the werewolf can definitely hear his heart pounding away, but the guy doesn’t look all too bright, so buying himself time here is key. With some time, maybe Scott or Derek--or, hell, even one of Derek’s new betas--will go looking for him.

The wolf scratches his head nervously, red eyes darting from tree to tree, alerting Stiles to the fact this is an alpha. Probably a new one. Someone who may have turned on their previous alpha and, without the authority to reign in his pack, been forced to flee.

Or so he assumes.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re trying here, buddy, and if you need help, you better get your little werewolf ass to someone else’s doorstep.” The wolf stares at him a moment, canines elongating, and Stiles swallows with an audible gulp.

“You--” the werewolf starts, clicking his tongue, “You’re smart, right?” Before Stiles can answer, although his mouth is already open to begin rambling, he continues, flexing his clawed fingers, “You look smart. You’ve probably got, like, all A’s or some shit like that.”

Stiles scuffles backwards, “Uh-huh.” He glances around and sees his cell phone where it had fallen from his pocket a few yards away. He could try to make a run for it, but it would be risking life and limb, quite literally, to do so.

Turning from him, the wolf sighs, “I’m not that smart. I…shoulda had a plan. But I don’t. I just…” His voice lowers, murmuring almost to himself, “need a pack.” He looks over his shoulder to Stiles, “A second in command. You know, someone who can do that brainy shit for me.”

“Okay?” Stiles asks, hoping this isn’t going where he thinks it is.

The wolf takes a quick step towards him, “Like you.”

He feels like sirens should be going off in his head, but everything is instead just eerily quiet, “No. No, no, no,” he manages out, throat constricting painfully as he goes against his body’s sudden, fear-induced paralysis. “How ’bout _not_ me? Like, someone…else?”

The wolf shakes his head, “I ain’t got no time for that. It needs to be you.” He nods, assuring himself of his decision.

“Did you listen to the double negatives in that sentence? You _do_ have time,” Stiles attempts to convince him, wondering where the hell his own werewolf pals might be, waiting for the last minute rescue he’s become perhaps a bit _too_ dependent on.

There’s a rustle in the leaves and the two turn immediately in the direction of the sound, Stiles more than ready to breathe a sigh of relief once he catches sight of whichever wolf has come…only, there’s no one. Just the wind.

Real panic sets in this time. He had been so sure someone would find him, like they always do, but this werewolf is getting closer, claws wrapping around the fabric of his shirt.

Stiles probably screams when the wolf’s fangs sink in, but he’s too busy being overcome by the pain and immediately blacking out to be sure.

The last thing he remembers hearing is the werewolf’s voice, “Shit. _Fuck_. I think I did it wrong.”

If Stiles could have thought up a sarcastic comment at that moment, he would’ve spat it at him. As it was, passing out was definitely in order.


	2. [Ending One] (It Could Turn You) ...Or Kill You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the character death ending. Just warning you again.

When he wakes up, it’s to mainly the same sentiment, but from a more familiar voice.

“Fuck, Stiles. What happened?” A hand presses to his side. “ _Shit_.”

He blinks his eyes open to look at Derek and can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips before the situation comes crashing down on him. He starts hyperventilating, “Am I gonna--”

“Don’t talk,” Derek tells him, eyes flashing red in warning. It’s almost comforting for Derek to do it.

“Is it bad?” he hears Scott ask and resists the urge to roll his eyes, even now.

Keeping a hand pressed to the bite, Derek turns his attention to Scott long enough to explain now that the teenager is one of his to teach, “Whoever did this didn’t know what they were doing.”

Scott’s brows furrow, “Isn’t it just instinct?”

Derek shakes his head and opens his mouth to answer when something clicks in Stiles’s traumatized mind, “Wait-- Did he just _leave me in the middle of the woods_?”

The alpha’s mouth closes and his jaw tightens and Stiles nearly flails in astonishment. The flare of pain through his muscles the second he starts stops him, but only just.

“ _Seriously_?” Stiles lifts his head and looks at his best friend and the werewolf he had more than platonic feelings for, then lets it thunk back to the ground. “Great.”

Derek speaks again, “No--”

“Talking,” Stiles finishes lamely. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.” His mind won’t stop beginning new thoughts, but all he wants is for it to go completely, blissfully blank.

“Scott, get the others,” Derek orders and, with only a few stunted attempts as disagreement, Scott acquiesces, running on all fours out of the clearing Stiles has found himself in.

Derek is worried. Stiles has never seen Derek this worried. He’s unsure why he does it, but it just…feels right, and he figures even Derek won’t have the heart to reject it with him, what, bleeding out on a pile of dry leaves? His fingers slowly find their way to Derek’s arm, sliding down to his wrist where it rests on Stiles’s stomach.

The alpha’s breath hitches, vision focused on Stiles completely. “I’m sorry,” he whispers and Stiles wants to laugh, but it’s _really_ not funny.

“Why?” Stiles asks, wondering if the sincerity is a side effect of the blood loss and ignoring the order of silence he’d been given.

Derek’s other hand moves to Stiles’s face, tears spilling down his cheeks, “Because I should have protected you.”

Stiles can see all of the guilt Derek has--because of him, his family, his uncle, everything. “Hey, it’s not your _job_.”

The alpha clenches his hand into a fist next to the teenager’s head. “ _Yes_ ,” he grits out, “it _is_ , Stiles.” At his questioning look, Derek says, “You’re _pack_.”

Stiles’s body shakes once, then again. Again. The tears start and he pulls Derek down to him, wishing this had gone differently.

“Stiles, I--”

It’s wet and salty and he can barely press his lips to Derek’s because he’s sobbing so hard, his lips curling back ungraciously, but he can’t bring himself to give a fuck. He clutches tightly to Derek’s shoulders, to his jacket. This can’t be happening, not now.

They’re kissing and it’s nothing like it should be, full of guilt and regret and could-have-beens. He’s going to die a virgin and he supposes that shouldn’t be one the first things that pops into his mind, but it does. He whimpers into Derek’s mouth and thinks of how his dad will be all alone, having lost his job thanks to him. He should’ve thought things through. He should never have--

How could any of this be happening? How did he live in a world where werewolves _existed_?

“Come on, Stiles,” Derek growls plaintively. “Your heart needs to keep beating, you need to _be here_. I _need_ you here.”

“You need _me_ , huh, Mr. Alpha Wolf?” Stiles asks, smirking at that, despite the fact that he’s rapidly losing feeling. He touches the werewolf’s face, barely able to keep his head up.

“Yes.” Derek can hear his heartbeat slowing, “Please.” It’s a word he doesn’t use often, and he can see the faintest hint of a genuine smile on Stiles’s lips.

“It’ll be okay, right?” Stiles asks.

Derek can’t hear his heart anymore, but he presses his ear to Stiles’s chest anyway, hoping he’s wrong. “Stiles…”

There’s no response. No flutter, no murmur of life.

“I need you.”

His face is wet and his hands are bloody and he howls mournfully. He clutches the body to him, waiting for Scott to retrieve it, ready to seek his vengeance.

Derek should never have expected anything but loss from his life. He had failed his pack as an alpha, as a protector.

...This time, but never again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-death ending soon to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Two = death ending  
> Chapter Three and Four soon to come.


End file.
